Author's note: I'm SO sorry that it's taken me so long to update this story. School has been absolute madness and I see now that I wasn't prepared to publish a high-maintenance story so soon (and as my first ever). But I have a few more chapters at the ready now. So updating from now on should be pretty regular. (I'm aiming for one chapter per week. As long as I'm patient enough that is…). But as a reward for your lovely reviews and patience, I'll put up the next chapter in he next day or so. As soon as I am done editing it. I hope you will forgive me for taking so long. Enjoy.

P.S. I don't speak a word of German. I used Google Translate, and I know it's incorrect a lot of the time, but I didn't know what else to do. So I apologize for any mistakes you might find.


Chapter2

The Monster

In which Erik meets an old acquaintance, and Charles looses control.


"So, what house is it Charles?" Enquired Erik as they stood at the beginning of a seemingly deserted street.

Furstenwall was a long straight residential street. Charles judged from the size and condition of the majority of houses, that this was a richer neighbourhood than the one they had just walked through.

"And what makes you think that our telekinetic mutant will even be at home? It's the middle of a working day"

"The house number is 144," Replied Charles absent-mindedly as he scanned the row of houses. "And I know he is home. Because I can already feel his consciousness."

Erik raised an eyebrow. "After you then, Charles."

Charles nodded and led his friend halfway down the street. And through a cast iron gate to a massive three story white house, made seemingly of white marble. Up several marble steps, past two marble pillars and up to the massive wooden double door. Charles inwardly cringed at the house's garishness, overall ugliness and the obvious effort at grandeur. An assessment that was not helped by the two large, golden eagles that adorned the head height marble pillars on either side of the door. Erik raised a disdainful eyebrow at the sight. He hated eagles.

Erik rolled his eyes as Charles straightened his suit jacket, took a steadying breath and ran a hand though his already perfectly arranged brown hair before knocking loudly on the door.

Charles stepped back as they waited for someone to open the door. Just as Charles began to question his certainty that there was someone home. The intercom to the right of the door buzzed and from it issued a deep voice that in clipped demanding German almost shouted "Wer ist es? Was willst du?(Who is it? What do you want?)"

Charles looked at Erik helplessly. His German was terrible. Even though he could perfectly understand any language as long as he was reading the mind of the speaker or a person within hearing distance that also spoke the particular language, he was hopeless at speaking it himself. And he was loath to intrude into the speakers mind unless he had no other option. And with Erik present, being the German born man that he was, that was thankfully un-necessary.

Erik sighed at Charles thoughtlessness as he stepped around his friend and pushed the "talk" button on the intercom. The plan had been that Charles would be doing most of the talking this time. How Charles had over looked the issue of a language barrier, Erik didn't know, he had assumed that Charles had a basic grasp of German and so he hadn't questioned it. How ironic, thought Erik, that such an eloquent and brilliant man could be stumped by something as simple as a different language. Erik smirked when he saw Charles frown at him in his peripheral vision.

It's rude to eavesdrop my friend. He added.

It's also rude to talk about people behind there backs, particularly a friend.

Erik smirk widened into a small smile as he spoke into the intercom with his usual seriousness. "Guten Tag. Mein Name ist Erik Lehnsherr und mein Kollege Charles Xavier und ich möchte mit Ihnen über bestimmte sprechen ... Fähigkeiten, die wir alle besitzen. Wenn Sie so gnädig sein, um uns noch in (Good afternoon. My name is Erik Lehnsherr and my associate Charles Xavier and I would like to speak to you about certain…abilities that we all possess. If you be so gracious as to yet us in.)" Erik released the button and looked at Charles with a questioning expression.

"Yes, he's asking a servant to open the door now" Charles said, something was off. It had seemed too easy. And the feeling of recognition he felt, coming from the mutant at the name "Lehnsherr" made him wary. Why would someone they've never met, have interest in the Erik's name? Whatever the reason it probably wasn't good.

Erik was similarly uncomfortable. It shouldn't have been that easy to convince the mutant to talk to them. Every other mutant they had met had shown at least mild opposition to listening to them, and particularly at accepting what they had said and what they had to offer. It was unusual.

Just then the door opened to reveal a stony faced man in a suit. "Bitte kommen Sie in (Please come in.)"

"Danke." Erik nodded as he stepped through the door, Charles followed.

Erik? Would you mind translating for me please? Just project the translation, you don't have to say anything.

Erik rolled his eyes again. If it was anyone but you Charles…

Charles grinned. Thank you

"Hier entlang bitte (Right this way please)." Said the man and led the pair through a cavernous receiving room with a marble floor and ornately painted walls, through another door at the opposite end of the room, which led to a lush office. All dark, rich wood furnishings and walls, thick carpeting and bookshelves lining the walls.

Sitting behind a desk towards the back of the office was a middle aged man with dark, greying hair, with bright, calculating brown eyes.

The man looked up as they entered. "Danke, Hans. Schließen Sie die Tür hinter dir bitte (Thank you, Hans. Close the door behind you please)". Charles raised an eyebrow at the ease and extraordinary speed with which Erik translated the German for him. It was a testament to Erik's exceptionally bright mind that he could deliver the translation almost as soon as it reached his ears.

The man, Hans, nodded and left.

The mutant stood up and walked around the desk to shake there hands. "Hallo, mein Name ist Dominik Waltz und Sie sind ...?(Hello, my name is Dominik Waltz and you are…?)" He shook Charles hand.

"Charles Xavier, wie geht es Dir? (Charles Xavier, how do you do?)" Said Charles, much to Erik's shock. It was a large credit to his self control that the only hint at his surprise was a slight frown.

"Danke, es geht mir sehr gut (I am very well, thank you)" Grinned Dominik as he turned to Erik.

Shaking the other German's hand he said "Dann müssen Sie Erik Lehnsherr werden (Then you must be Erik Lehnsherr)"

"Erfreut, Sie zu treffen Herr. Waltz (Pleased to meet you Mr. Waltz.)" nodded Erik.

"Bitte setzen Sie sich. Machen Sie es sich bequem (Please sit down. Make your selves comfortable)" he smiled as he gestured to the chairs in front of his desk.

I thought you said you didn't speak any German? Erik shot at Charles in annoyance

I never said that. In fact, I never said anything about me not being able to speak another language. It was you who assumed that I couldn't speak anything but English.

Then why am I taking the effort to translate for you?

Because despite my flawless pronunciation,

Charles joked, I only know the basics.

Charles felt Erik's mental sigh. Fine then…

Again, thank you my friend.

Their mental conversation was ended as Waltz sat down and asked "Also, was war es, dass Sie sagten, Sie waren hier, um zu diskutieren? (So, what was it that you said you were here to discuss?)"

"Ah, ja. Mein Kollege und ich,(Ah, yes. My associate and I,)" Erik gestured to Charles and himself. "Haben einen Vorschlag an Sie richten. (have a proposition to put to you.)" Charles had heard this speech before. Erik would go on to explain their offer, that they knew what Waltz was and that they were the same, then the potential recruit would usually interrupt at that point and ask for a demonstration of their powers. Charles stopped paying close attention to what his friend was saying as the mind reader looked around the room, looking for anything of importance or something that might tell him what sort of man Waltz was.

Charles could tell the house was relatively new; it wasn't old enough to be passed down from a relative. So that meant that Waltz had probably had the house built, thus the house, and the garish, tasteless style of it was of his own design. The style of the house told Charles that Waltz wanted desperately to be acknowledged for his wealth, which to him, probably meant prominence. These two observations seemed to say that that Waltz's family wasn't old money, Waltz has had made all his money himself. So what has he done to earn his wealth?Charles wondered

Waltz seemed to be listening intently, elbows on his desk, fingers steepled against his chin, focusing intently on Erik.

Charles stood too take a better look at the room, bookshelves lined the walls. On closer inspection Charles found a copy of Mien Kampf, by Adolf Hitler. Which in and of its self was not unsettling. Charles himself had read it, if only to understand what everyone said about it. But this copy was very well worn, suggesting that it was read often. On a whim, he picked it up; he opened the cover to the title page. There it was. It was signed by the author. This was what unsettled Charles, if Erik saw this…he would act before he thought. Charles quickly replaced the book onto the shelf. He didn't believe that Waltz could ever have been a Nazi. Such a polite, gracious man couldn't be a Nazi.

Charles thoughts were interrupted.

I…I think I've met this man before Charles. Thought Erik. I just can't remember where.

The telepath was worried now. He decided that before he did anything, he needed to be sure.

Charles continued his search of the room. Because that's what it was now, a search. A search for proof. Proof that he was, or proof that he wasn't. If he was what Charles had the sneaking suspicion that he might be, he didn't have very long to live. Erik would find out, sooner more likely than later. And he had to get Erik out of here before he realized. Charles walked over to a waist high, glass cabinet. He looked down on numerous medals. But all he seemed capable of seeing at that time was the unmistakable lightning bolt shaped SS. The infamous insignia of the Schutzstaffel

So he made his money by taking it from minorities…

Charles looked up in alarm at Waltz smiling face as the man in question interrupted Erik's speech around the time that most of the others interrupted. But what he said was far from expected.

"Lehnsherr ... ist, dass ein jüdischer Name? (Lehnsherr…is that a Jewish name?)"

"…Ja (Yes)" Erik answered slowly, with a cold tone. When neither of them said anything else, Erik continued with his spiel and thought at Charles with disdain. My friend, I don't like this man, even though I can't remember him, something tells me that he was no friend to me. His smiling face is hiding something. He is a snake.

Charles walked back, over to the two men, and sat down. Erik was smiling, but the smile reminded Charles of a predator sizing up his prey and all the metal objects in the room seemed to be humming. Unnervingly, Waltz had the same expression. Although he seemed as though he was about to pounce.

It's a pleasure to see you again Erik Lehnsherr. Do you miss your Victorie?

It was a private thought; Waltz didn't know he was overheard. Charles paled. Oh no, not her…

You monster…thought Charles. Erik head snapped to look at his friend. In his anger, Charles had projected the accusation. Waltz looked around wildly before settling his eyes on Charles. He smirked. Well, if that's all you can do…

Being such a mild person, Charles didn't usually get angry. For a telepath, this was a good thing. Anger in a telepath, particularly one as powerful as Charles, could be devastating. To someone with telepathic abilities, self control was the most important and useful tool one could have. But when someone like Charles lost control, it's dangerous.

Charles delved into Waltz' mind, searching for the memory of what this monster did to a helpless little girl. He skimmed over the incident in the park. He didn't need to know the details. Still he couldn't help but feel Waltz' rage, excitement and most sickening of all, joy, in the horrific act he was performing. Charles' anger grew as he watched the grinning man in front of him beat a young girl to death. Through the monster's eyes he saw young Erik Lehnsherr's face fill with grief and loss, then rage.

Charles stared at the Nazi who found that he was unable to move.

You will pay for what you did to those to children. And all those others that you wronged.Projected Charles coldly. Erik looked at his friend in confusion, momentarily distracted from his growing realization of who this mutant was, and what he did. In Charles anger, he was unable to focus on who he was projecting to, and what he was projecting. Everyone in the house was able to hear Charles and feel his anger and distress.

"Charles what's wrong?" Erik asked, gripping his shoulder. "Charles?" He said, with more urgency.

The mind reader watched as he saw the younger Waltz take Victories' body, through her into the back seat of his car, and drive to his home. He dug a shallow grave and dumped her in it, covering her body with dirt.

The house was in the same place as this one; the old house had been knocked down and rebuilt. But Charles knew she was still right where Waltz left her, he didn't let anyone near the basement.

You are a monster of the most discussing sort, Dominik Waltz. And I will make you pay. For Erik. For Victorie.

Erik's eyes widened at his friends words and the return of his memory. The metal in the office began to shake. Erik's expression turned cold and indifferent, in a mask of calm that Charles knew hid a violent and consuming rage.

"Do it Charles" he said

Charles did not hesitate. The telepath wiped Waltz mind of all memory, personality and intellect. Charles rid the man of everything that made him human, even though human was a very loose term when applied to him.

Waltz' face went slack; His eyes, vacant.

Charles even took away the man's feelings. Except for a few select emotions. Which he amplified to fill the space left over. These emotions were animalistic terror, grief for the loss of everything he ever had even though he didn't know that there was anything to be had in the first place, and pain. Endless pain that would be the sole focus of his pitiful mind for the rest of his life.

Waltz began to scream. A bloodcurdling, endless scream of the worst agony imaginable as he stared at nothing.

This screaming fiend was now all that was left of him. He would not sleep; he would not eat or drink. He would do nothing but feel his pain and scream until he died.

Charles rose from his seat, and with Erik in tow, walked out of the room, and out of the house, wiping the house's occupants minds of their visit as he went.

Out on the street, as they walked towards a hotel, Charles began to weep. He cried a little for what he had done, but mostly for Victorie. And most of all, what that horrible man had taken from Erik.

The older man soon calmed. He found that whenever something like this was over, it didn't take long to regain his control. He put an arm around his friends shoulder when he saw the telepath crying.

"You should have let me kill him, my friend." he said gently. "I'm so sorry Charles, I should have realized sooner what he was. It was all there, the eagles, the way he recognized me, the books, and the badges. " He gave a cold laugh. "Even the style of the house screamed Nazi."

Charles wiped his eyes and said "No. I couldn't let you do that, killing would make us no better than them."

Erik wisely kept to himself the fact that Charles had basically sentenced Waltz to death, a long and slow death at that. He didn't think Charles was in control at the time, so it would do no good for him to point that out to his friend.

Instead he said "Let's go find a hotel, and alcohol."

Charles' resulting chuckle was cut short "We can't, we have to go back."

Erik was confused "Why would we do that?"

"Because I know where Victorie is. You want to give her a proper burial don't you?"

The older mans shock was evident "Of course."


So what did you think? Please review! It means a lot if you do! Stay tuned for the next chapter.

Love, Ashy